


To Thine Own Self Be True

by hauntedlittledoll



Series: Tumblr Fic War [1]
Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Gen, Random Literary References for the Win, Shakespeare is My Second Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-08
Updated: 2013-06-08
Packaged: 2017-12-14 08:02:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/834562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hauntedlittledoll/pseuds/hauntedlittledoll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anonymous Prompt: Tim is feeling sick and alone and no one seems to be around.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Thine Own Self Be True

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from William Shakespeare's "Hamlet"

Tim’s over-reacting.

Just some chest pain—Tim initially attributes it to indigestion.  He survives mostly on caffeine these days, and actual food is always a delicate proposition.

He chokes down half a sandwich and washes it down with water instead of coffee.  Good enough for him.

Tim has work to do.  Bruce is off world, Damian with the Titans, Dick’s laid up with a broken leg, and Steph’s shouldering the weight of the city so that Tim can study for his finals.

He just needs to get through this week.

Or maybe the next few minutes—his left arm goes numb mid-sentence allowing the point to trail off into a brief key-smash.  Tim immediately detours to the bathroom and takes an aspirin—isn’t that what the commercials say to do?

He hovers over his phone.  Everyone’s busy, and he’s probably over-reacting.  After a long minute, he calls Jason.  If it’s a good week, the Red Hood will take him to the clinic no questions asked.

It’s a bad week.

Tim doesn’t leave a message.  The pain doesn’t go away, but his arm is okay now.  He packs a bag, and drives to the Manor … slowly, carefully, responsibly.

He’s over-reacting.

Tim makes an excuse to Alfred—AC is on the fritz.  Tim doesn’t wake Dick—Batman needs his sleep.  Tim lets himself into his room.  He takes another aspirin, brushes his teeth, and goes to bed.

He watches the numbers of the clock change slowly as he spreads cautious fingers over his chest as if that would ease the tiny clenches of pain.  He watches them change from midnight to one to two.

Eventually, Tim drifts off.

He wakes up.

Look at that—he was just over-reacting.


End file.
